The Secrets of Flamel
by YourGreatestDream
Summary: 11 year old Rebecca Flamel wanted her life to be anything but the mundane reality she has grown up with. However, not being careful what she wished for nearly got her ran over by a truck, and now she faces the dangerous world of magic. Her father was a wizard? Hagrid pops in and an invitation is handed out. What secrets will await her in her journey to finding the truth?
1. Chapter 1: Trouble in the Woods

**Disclaimer:** Honestly? Would I ever claim to own the book series that is famous the world over? Okay, I do not own Harry Potter. Happy, disclaimer people?

**Author note: **The inspiration of a dark night drove me to create a fan fiction of Harry Potter. On that note, please review if you like it and would like to see more of it. I enjoy the magical world of Harry Potter, and felt like punching myself in (I just had to).This character uses my first name, so I'm dearly sorry for that. However, this lets me get deeper into the character's mindset, and makes it easier for plotting for some reason.

Enjoy my fun Harry Potter gig!

**The Secrets of Flamel, Ch. 1: Trouble in the Woods**

As a kid, imagination is encouraged by adults around you. Magic is real when you're little, as are dragons, fairies, goblins, and trolls. How is it that one man can fly all over the world in one night, leaving Christmas presents for every household? How can a campfire's embers pop in the air above it, the glowing wisps suspended in an upward pull towards the sky?  
Magic.

I drummed my pencil against my thigh as my eyes stared off into space, not even hearing the teacher in the front of the fifth-grade classroom. Until she thundered my name across the room.

"Rebecca Woods!"

"Yes?" I inquired, sitting up straight in my chair. Several classmates around me snickered.

"Can you tell me the perimeter of the isosceles triangle given one angle and two sides?" Mrs. Higgins looked at me with a politely questioning expression.

I looked in my text book and glazed over the whiteboard before answering. "You use the law of sines, but isn't trigonometry not supposed to be introduced until ninth grade?"

The teacher looked stunned, but recomposed herself rather quick. "I see you _were_ paying attention Rebecca. That was just a question for the class to show you all a glimpse of what you will be learning later on..." By then she had lost me again.

The real world sucked. In books of fiction, like the ones I could hardly ever put down, the world could be anything you wished it to be. How many times had I wished life was like a fantasy? Too often to count.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day for school. Bags already packed, most of the students rushed out of the room with impatience and relief on their faces. The teacher called out the week's homework, even though less than half the class was there to hear it. I jotted down in my notes the assignment anyways. Hey, I'm not always an airhead, and I do care about my education. I just wished it was more interesting.

Running outside the school building, I noticed the leaves on the maple trees shifting rapidly. It wouldn't have bothered me before, but this time there was something odd about it. I jumped at the realization. There was no wind. I shook my head as I grabbed my old, silver blue bike.

_Creepy_, I thought.

Biking towards my house, I had the slight premonition... or hope... that today was going to be a little less normal.

I watched the trees on the side of the road as I rode by, the only sound being the continuous clinks in the wheels as I sped past. My eyes drifted to the side, and fell on a peculiar sight sitting on a branch. It was an owl in broad daylight, with its round yellow eyes staring straight at me.

_Not every day you see that! _Was the first thing I thought. However, my distraction from the road in front of me soon proved to be the most foolish thing I had ever done.  
A loud blare of a four by four blasted in front of me, and I saw headlights moving at me going forty miles per hour. Five miles over what I knew to be the speed limit of my neighborhood street. The stunning panic over-road my senses, and before I knew it the car was upon me. All I had time to do was brace myself with my arms held up to defend me, willing with all my heart for this not to be happening.

The sound of metal crushing and bending invaded my ears. The screeching of rubber tires locked into a break over cement accompanied the smell of burning rubber. A curse spoke out from the driver quickly cut off, as the man was concussed by the fortunate airbag. Me, on the other hand...

I opened my eyes after the puzzling moment of not feeling myself get pummeled by the truck. What I saw left me stunned, my gasp muffled behind my shaking hands. How could this have happened?

A huge dent caving in the shape of a U showed the front of the truck pushed in, exactly two feet radius of where I stood on shaking legs. It was as if the track had hit some invisible pillar, the center of that pillar the exact same spot where I was no longer standing, but sitting.  
Oh no, the engine! My mind flew to the driver's safety and I quickly rubbed the life back into my legs. I didn't know much about cars, but with such an impact I couldn't be sure that the engine would not explode.

"Help!" I screamed, hoping that someone was nearby and had called 911. I hobbled over to the door on the driver's side, shock causing my legs to feel like jelly. Trying the handle, I started panicking when the door wouldn't open. I pounded on the window, looking worriedly at the unconscious man inside.

"STAND ASIDE!" A great bellow roared as I was gently lifted and discarded on the sidewalk next to my bike. I gasped at the size of the man who tore off the door and plucked out the driver, carrying him under one arm as though he was light a bag of feathers. In five long strides, he covered ten feet before the truck behind him exploded into a flaming blaze of hot melting metal and smoke.

This giant had a gruffly large, black beard and long coarse hair. He stood nearly twice as tall as a normal man, and was nearly four times as wide. Despite the size of him, when his eyes looked me over in concern I immediately liked him. His eyes were tiny and gentle, and gleamed with a certain honesty that made me trust him; but only just.

"You're not hurt are yeh?" The big guy asked me, gently depositing the blond haired driver on the grass on the other side of the sidewalk.

"I don't think so." I muttered. I still was puzzled about that. Why /was/ I fine? I should have been killed! What on earth could have saved me?

"Well, miss Flamel...I do believe I owe yeh me introduction." The giant grabbed a red umbrella out of his brown overcoat and turned towards the burning truck.

_Flamel? Why is he addressing me by my father's surname?_ I wondered. I was Rebecca Woods, a normal American citizen. My mother, Lisa Woods, had legally changed her last name back to what it had been before meeting my father. Never having had the last name 'Woods' before, mine had just simply changed. How did he even know about me?

After checking that they were alone he tapped his umbrella atop the truck's lid and the dent seemed to unfold, returning back to its proper shape. Within ten seconds the smoke and fire dissipated, leaving the truck looking good as new.

"How...how did you-"

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." His gruff voice carried a warm and cheery tone now that the danger had passed. He tucked his umbrella back into his coat, and held out his other hand to help me up. My knees had obviously failed me again. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance!"

"Mom! Why didn't you tell me I was a witch?" I scorned.

The kitchen was high in tension, despite the decorations put up and the white cake on the table with 'Happy 11th Birthday' scribbled on it with hardly discernible cursive. Those party preparations were all but forgotten now, as I looked to my mother for answers.

My mom, beautiful as she was with her strait, long blond hair and emerald green eyes, had been pacing back and forth in the kitchen ever since she saw the big man...Hagrid... and looked more flustered than I had ever seen before. Never in my life had I seen her use magic, and after being reassured that she wasn't a witch herself that only left one person in the family that I had to thank for my powers. Lines crinkled her forehead as she turned to me with a pained expression.

"Honey, for years you never showed signs of magic. After what happened to your grandfather and father, I wanted to keep you away from it." She clasped her palms together over her face, pinching her tears back. This got my attention.

"What happened to them?" I asked firmly. I was vacantly aware that Hagrid was making the house creak as he shuffled around awkwardly from accidentally crushing one of the sofas in the living room next door. I had never known my father very well, since his disappearance eight years ago. I was three then. However I did remember my grandfather as a fun-loving, wise and story-telling figure. Grandfather Nicholas visited me one time during my seventh birthday, and I vaguely remember him showing me a trick to getting a paper airplane of mine to fly where ever I wanted it...

"Michael, your father...was a great man." My mom started, her eyes swelling red. I listened intently. "Secretive as a jammed lock, but a great man... I believed he called it as being an 'Auror'. But when you're that great you have enemies... He was aware that his enemies were watching him. Two weeks before he left he told me he had to take care of things and started packing up a small suitcase."

I remembered that day. My mind wondered off to revisit a scene in my head where my dad, with his ragged short brown hair and brown eyes hiding behind a pair of glasses had bent down to pat my head before walking out the front door. It wasn't much of a memory, but it was there.

"He died, Becks. He was reported killed in the Daily Prophet, and I stopped reading. I stopped doing everything that was magic, and took us away to America to keep us safe."  
Understanding hit me, lacking better word for it, like a truck. I held my head tight to let it sink in. "That's why you had us change names like that; to throw them off. You told me it was because he left us. That you wanted to move back to America and change our last names to be rid of him..."

"I never said such a thing!" Mom wailed on me, tears in her eyes.

"Okay, maybe I tried to fill in the gaps on my own." I tried again, still not giving up. "Because I had no idea why dad left and what happened to him. You never told me. Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"I wanted to protect you." Mom wiped her face clean with a napkin from the corner of the kitchen counter. "I wanted you to grow up living a normal, safe life.."

"What if that isn't what I wanted? What if every day, I wished that there was a little more, a little adventure in my life? Why do you think I read fiction? I've always wanted there to be magic in the world, and now there is!" I ranted, letting it all out. I needed to say this. I had been holding it in for so long, it had to be said. "Yet, now that there is, the trade off is knowing that you lied to me?"

"Honey..." My mom had just stopped crying only to have it start again.

Our conversation was interrupted by an owl flying up to the closed window and pecking on the glass. It was the same bugger that nearly got me killed...not that it was its fault. I should have watched where I was going. Looking at it from a closer distance I could tell it was a horned owl. I noticed from the flash of white paper that it carried an envelope in its claws.  
My mom opened the window and the owl flew in, landing on the kitchen countertop. It's claws slipped a little before it found support by much flapping of its wings.

"That mus' be the invi'tation!" Hagrid strode into the room and stroked the creature. "Good work, Thern."

Hagrid unhooked the letter from the owl, who right now looked mighty pleased with himself, and handed it to me. Instead of having the addresses printed on the upper left hand corner and bottom right, a simple 'To Rebecca Flamel' was hand written in ink. I turned it over. A red wax seal was traditionally stamped on the back, holding the folds together.  
Without waiting, I broke the seal and read the letters contents. What I saw changed my life for good.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

Dear Ms. Flamel,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress


	2. Chapter 2: A Leaky Cauldron

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the genius that is Harry Potter. Only the character Rebecca Flamel is my idea, and to be crude it isn't much of an idea.

**Author's note:** My mind has been dancing in the wizarding world for a while, sorry I haven't spent much time at the keyboard other than when I do college assignments. Here's the latest chapter. The fun comes after this, so stay tuned and review! Reviews help spur inspiration, so it is in your best interest to review!

**Secrets of Flamel chapter 2: A Leaky Cauldron**

Imagine my astonishment when I found out that the port key Hagrid had talked about was a small, silver backed hairbrush.

I don't know exactly what I was expecting... maybe the Washington Monument or something. The last thing that came to mind was a crooked bristled, handle worn hairbrush that looked like it had been used as a microphone in front of a mirror once too many times.

"That-that will take us to Europe?" I stared in disbelief.

Hagrid looked down at me, and the twinkle of amusement in his irises did not escape me. "Why, o' course! Port keys are very reliable. Us wizards use ordinary muggle objects to deter suspicions. Port key items range from tin cans to black kettles an' pots."

Well no wonder we weren't trespassing on government property to substitute the great obelisk of Washington DC for a passport to the world of magic and unicorns. What can I say? My imagination runs away from me sometimes.

Honestly though, it made sense that the wizard government or whoever wanted to prevent 'muggle' curiosity and interference. However this did not change my initial opinion.

I still had doubts about that hairbrush.

Hagrid looked at his watch on his right wrist, metal links incremented the strap, and the clockwork swung in a seemingly random pattern in interlinked circles, making me dizzy just seeing it. "Almos' six o-clock. Two minutes. Yeh better hold onto to the port key, or yeh'll be left behind."

I grasped firmly onto the hairbrush, subconscious that I was hanging into something six inches long with all the trust I could muster. Hagrid was still holding onto the handle like before. He moved to cover my back with an arm.

"The ride will be rough. Don' let go, no matter what. Yeh hear?" Hagrid's eyes glowered with his warning. I didn't even think to ask what would happen if I let go, so my only response was the stiffening of my grip.

What happened next was my first full-encompassing experience of magic. It felt like having a hook somewhere behind the center of my stomach pull me towards our location. My innards clenched up, and I felt the threat of bile building up at the back of my throat. I held it back with a steel will. /I am NOT going to be sick!/ 'Cause that would be the worst welcome to the wizard world in history.

When the feeling in my gut started to go away, I was no longer in my driveway. Instead, I was standing on a sidewalk in front of a small inn smushed between two big buildings. The rain surprised me, since only two seconds ago it was a sunny afternoon. Now, it was nighttime. Questions about the time skip topic hovered in the back of my mind, but the fact I was about to enter a world with magic sorta shoved that question to the back burners.

"The Leaky Cauldron will take yeh in for t'night. In the morning we'll go on to take care of yer shopping list." Hagrid explained. He walked up to the front door and opened it. I followed behind him as he marched in.

The place was dimly lit, with dark hard wooded furniture. At the end of the room, a middle aged man was wiping a drinking glass with a small towel behind a bar table. Hagrid walked right up to the bar, but I got side tracked by a broom sweeping the floor on its own.

"One room if yeh please, Tom." Hagrid said.

Tom, as the man was named, smiled knowingly. "As I expected. Had an extra room put up this afternoon. Do I need to make a vacancy for another student?"

"Yessir. I'll be bringin' in Mr. Potter. It's his birthday y'know." Hagrid informed. "I need teh grab that cake I made on the way over there."

A birthday right after mine? Who was Mr. Potter? A thin and tall man with clay rubbed off on his jean overalls came to mind.

Hagrid turned to me. And took my petite hands in a gentleman like gesture; his giant hands dwarfing mine. "Goodby' fer now, little miss. Tom will take care of things, and I'll be back by mornin'."

With that he walked out the door and after a moment I could hear a motorcycle revving away into the night. Suddenly feeling a rush of loneliness, I gulped down my increasing anxiety. /He'll be back./ I told myself.

Turning to Tom, I asked quietly where my room was.

"It's upstairs, room 358. Follow me, Ms. Woods." Tom grabbed a set of keys and lead the way. Did I even tell him my name? And how did he know I preferred the surname 'Woods'?

After finding my room I plopped down on the bed. To me it was still daytime, so I wasn't tired at all. My whole life was doing a one-eighty turn on me, my mom had kept secrets, and my grandfather was a famous wizard.

This was a lot to take in for an eleven-year-old girl. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my shopping list.

"Hm...Standard Book of Spells grade one...The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection...beginners cauldron...a pet?" I stared at the list. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.


	3. Chapter 3: A New Friend

Welcome back to my latest installment of Secrets of Flamel! Sorry I haven't done anything with my account for a long time. I need to get back to writing. Anyways, I've gotten good ideas, and I'm now implementing them into my story. I hope you enjoy it!** Review, please! Reviewing makes me feel guilty when I'm not writing anything, so it is within your best interest!**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the chosen one. JKR does. All hail!

* * *

**Chapter 3: A New Friend**

Before I knew I had even fallen asleep I found myself waking up. My listless dreams slipped away to the sounds of city traffic. I opened my eyes to find myself in the unfamiliar inn room. Very different compared to waking up from the twitters of birds at my window, or my mom's gentle shake of my shoulder. Guilt washed over me with that thought. Being homesick, did I even have a right to be homesick after what I put mom through?

A knocking thundered behind the wooden door. Must be Hagrid.

"I'm coming down in a se-"

"Room keeping." Muttered an older lady's voice from behind the door.

I quickly slipped my clothes on and dashed outside. Giving a slight wave of the hand to the woman, I rushed downstairs to the main floor. Rather easily, I located Hagrid near the back tables with a young boy my age. I carefully approached them.

"Why, good mornin' to yeh miss Woods." Hagrid greeted me from his giant tankard of ... whatever it was he was having. Half of whatever was already spilled across his beard. As he grabbed a towel at his side he saw fit to introduce me to the boy.

"Rebecca, this is Harry. Harry meet Rebecca. She's same year as you, starting her first year at Hogwarts."

"Pleased to meet you." The boy said sheepishly. He seemed polite enough. No overalls or pottery that I could see. Just a normal grey t-shirt under a dull colored plaid over-shirt that was way too big for him. He wore glasses with a broken frame down the middle, which was held together only by a piece of tape. His black hair covered most of his forehead, and his face looked ...honest. I smiled at the prospect of having someone my age to finally talk to.

"Hello to you too." Not as polite, but what do you expect? I'm American. I took a seat across from the two when I remembered an important detail. "Oh, and Happy Birthday."

Tom brought over breakfast, which was soup surprise. I put in the surprise bit, since it was a mystery soup to me. As I shoveled down my meal, Hagrid filled us in on today's events.

"In Diagon Alley, we need to visit Gringott's bank for both of yer withdrawals. After that, yeh have shoppin' to do. Better get it done quickly, so as not to miss the train."

"Withdrawals?" Harry asked. "But I don't have any money."

"Just wait 'n see." Hagrid's eyes glinted, and he looked us both over in a reassuring gaze.

After the meal, all three of us headed to ... a brick wall.

"Hagrid, are you sure this is the right place?" Harry asked. I stayed quiet. I had already seen him teleport me with a hairbrush, a brick wall could be a door and I wouldn't be surprised.

Turns out it was a door. What a surprise! The moment Hagrid tapped his umbrella to the bricks, the stone bricks shuffled out of our way to reveal a sight such as I've never seen.

Ok, I had to admit. I was surprised at that. I looked over at Harry, and his look of admiration was nearly double that of mine.

Pointy hats and black cauldrons moved about on a busy road between two lanes of stores on both sides. Witches grouped together in small bunches were chattering eagerly. Wizards laughed whole heartedly at one another, sharing stories of their summer. I saw a hanging cave bat screech at me from a store sign, and an owl flying overhead. Candy lined the windows of one store, and I could feel the magic pulsing through the very air.

I didn't pay Hagrid much attention when he spoke about a few stores, naming them at the top of his head like this was his backyard. Instead, I peaked into a store with the emblem of a cauldron over it. 'Apothecary'' was spelled out on the black door in golden letters. Beyond the open front door I could smell the odors of various magical brews and ingredients. My skin prickled with excitement, and somehow the smell of the ingredients reminded me of an old desk, and my father sitting down placing me on his lap. I checked my school list, and saw ingredients such as horned slugs, saltpetre, and snake fangs; as well as more squeamish sounding ones like eel eyes. Then I remembered I didn't have money on me.

I turned around to get back to Harry and Hagrid, and saw Hagrid's upper half poking out of the crowd farther up the street. Had they gone that far already? I hurried to catch up.

Without looking, I bumped into someone and fell. Whoever it was fell with me, amid some small amount of cursing.

"Watch where you're going, clumsy!" An angry bout flew at me from a short blond boy. His hair was slicked back like it was much too fussed over by his parents, and his dark grey eyes stared at me accusingly. I looked around for Hagrid's mob of black hair, but could no longer see him.

"Sorry, I'm lost." I explained quickly. He looked as though he was about to throw me another round of angry lectures, but in the end he decided better, and held his chin up.

"First year? I'm one too. I know every place there is, but that's standard." The blonde didn't hold a hand out to help me up after he got up himself, so I just got up on my own means. "Only a fool would not care to learn about the greatest street in all of London."

"Oxford?" I asked.

The blonde twisted his face up in confusion, then asked seriously and with slight suspicion, "Are you a muggleborn?"

It took me a few seconds to understand the term before answering. I remembered Hagrid call my mother 'muggle', but by mom's record my father was definitely not one of them. By the way this boy acted, being muggleborn was like a crime to his eyes. I chose to give him half the truth.

"My father was a great wizard." I said, and though to add to it. "An auror, actually."

"I see." The boy said. "Well that's fine I suppose. My parents are both wizards, and the most powerful family in London. Our line is pure blood as far back as the Statute of Secrecy and farther."

"Uh-huh." I didn't really care much about that. Boasting about family lines was so overrated, and completely opposite to me, as I tried my hardest to keep my mother's maiden name. I wondered what effect the name Flamel would have on the wizarding world. I might as well try it out. "My name's Rebecca Flamel. What's yours?"

"Draco Malfoy." He said with an air, as though I should know who he is just by his last name. "Hmm. Flamel is it? Never heard of your family line."

Oh well. Was worth a try. "Hey, I'm trying to find the Gringott's Bank. Can you show me where it is?" I asked.

"Might as well. It's the big, lopsided white building at the end of the street. You can't miss it." Draco was about to walk away when I called his attention.

"Draco?"

He turned around to look at me.

"Thank you." I said. Something about the way he started, the way his eyes widened in surprise, made me think he didn't get thanked all that often. Before things could get uncomfortable though, I dashed away towards the bank.

Hagrid was probably worried out of his mind. I passed a group of wizards and walked up to the front of the bank. _I'll know it when I see it. Well, I see it alright._

On the doors was an encrypted rhyme warning away thieves. I wasn't a thief, so I didn't read most of it.

Opening one of the two heavy doors with all my might, I entered the bank.


End file.
